Since the middle of being pregnant with Elise the only scale in our home that was meant for anything larger than a chicken breast has been dead. I found this timely demise of my worst enemy rather serendipitous.
That scale has been sitting on our bathroom floor untouched except for the occasional relocation while I quick scrub the bathroom floors.
I have been working hard toward my twenties bucket list goal of getting healthy by training and completing a triathlon, but the scale that I use as a marker of my progress at the gym doesn’t always work. It seems I am not the only one who has a hard time keeping fresh batteries in a scale.
So this weekend we bought a new scale. I could have just bought batteries for the old one but the new shiny one reads and reports ounces too. When I am looking for proof of progress any amount of weight-loss, even ounces, are counted as a victory! I took the scale up to our bathroom, pulled it out of the packaging and was ready to face the music when I realized that batteries were not included. Fate? Is someone up there trying to protect my fragile ego? Probably not since “batteries not included” was in bold face print on three of the six sides of the box. Technically I think it was on all six sides but my Spanish language skills don’t go beyond what Dora and Diego shout at my kids.
I bought batteries yesterday while Elise and I were at Home Depot scoping out bathroom vanities. I was quite proud that I bought said batteries in such a timely manner. I am getting closer to twenty-nine and a half and every day counts. Today I put the battery in my new scale. Let me tell you this, having ounces added to the number behind your poundage just makes your number even longer and seemingly larger. Thank goodness I bought the scale with the largest sized font too. Now, there is no mistaking the truth. Down to the ounce. I have five digit proof in extra-large font that I need to work harder and make better choices.
Lucky for all of you that occasionally crash at our house the batteries came in a two pack, so now both scales can have fresh batteries. As soon as the new bathroom in finished I will put the old scale in there. Come on over and visit we can commiserate together the power that a 9 volt battery has over our fragile egos while you check the new bathroom.
Nothing like truth slapping you in the face in the form of red digital numbers to make you choose the gym over running errands.
Side note: Tim can you pick up peanut butter on the way home? We are out.